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Rick: Oh Cliff / Sometimes it must be difficult not to feel as if / You really are a cliff / when fascists keep trying to push you over it! / Are they the lemmings / Or are you, Cliff? / Or are you Cliff?

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Rick: Oh Cliff / Sometimes it must be difficult not to feel as if / You really are a cliff / when fascists keep trying to push you over it! / Are they the lemmings / Or are you, Cliff? / Or are you Cliff?

You guys are bringing back memories, and you’re reading my album list too! How do you do that?

A quick story: On a rather desolate stretch of barrier island not far from my former house sits a grisly little beachfront inn which hosts local bands and regional "has-beens" on the outdoor terrace, not visible from Highway A1A, but certainly within hearing range, if not downright loud. One Saturday afternoon I was riding my bike down the bike path alongside the road and I could hear a local band warming up on the terrace. They were bashing through a cover of “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”. It brought a smile to my face – yet another group of kids playing that worn-out old tune. Easy to play, and something a group of kids can manage without a ton of talent. They were doing a passable job, I thought, but the timing and intonation was slightly, if forgivably, off. I rode on. About 30 minutes later when I returned from the other direction, I saw that a large banner had been placed over the inn’s entrance. It shouted: “Playing Tonight: Iron Butterfly…” A bit humbled, I rode on with another smile on my face.